


A Gentleman's Contract

by Araesson, Arlewena



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bad Touch Trio (Hetalia) - Freeform, Belgium as Flanders, Brandenburg is best husband, England curses Spain's ships, F/M, Historical Hetalia, It's your move Liet, M/M, Mentions of Spain/Aragon, More pairings to be revealed, Multi, Netherlands and Venice make bank on those, North Italy as Venice, Pirate England (Hetalia), Pirate Spain (Hetalia), Pirates, Prepare to have your Holytalia dreams crushed, Prussia is adorable, References to Spain as Castille, Spain's Puppy Eyes are a WMD, Switzerland isn't going near that nonsense, The Golden Age of Piracy, Too bad for him because the nonsense follows him home, Venice and the Ottomans are bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araesson/pseuds/Araesson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlewena/pseuds/Arlewena
Summary: In the wake of the 30 Years' War, a simple argument between Spain and England sparks something much greater on the world stage. Adventures on the high seas and priceless treasures await for any nation brave enough to try for the title of the Most Infamous Pirate Captain.





	1. A Meeting of Gentlemen Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the necessary Pirate Hetalia fic. It's here, friends, it's here. And like all good pirate fics, it starts with a contract and a bet.  
> See end notes for chapter playlist.

 

_“What are you doing, West?”_

_“I’ve been doing some research regarding pirates.”_

_“Pirates? How fun. What about them?”_

_“Well, I’ve been looking into several of the better-known ones, and have been compiling a list of all of the ones I could find. I was wondering if you could take a look and tell me if you know anything about any of them.”_

_“Let me see… Oh, I think I know a thing or two about these. Kesesese… I happened to personally know all of them, actually.”_

_“You did?! What were they like?”_

_“You should know, West! You know most of them, too! In fact, you even have the awesome me on this list!”_

_“... I do?!”_

_“Yeah! Wow, it was so long ago. I’d forgotten you hadn’t been a nation yet. Let me make some calls, and I’ll re-introduce you to everyone personally.”_

* * *

**October 1648**

Prussia had never thought he’d have anything to thank that Priss Austria for, but it turned Austria was actually capable of having good ideas. Well, it hadn’t seemed that way at the time. Seriously, a meeting of all of the independent personifications of Europe plus the Ottoman Empire, when their human ambassadors couldn’t even decide on who would sit where at the moment? It seemed like the perfect concoction for the reboot of the war they’d just ended, or at the very least a colossal failure that ended in squabbling. All of the chaos would have been egged on by Prussia; chaos was fun, and chaos with the bonus of foiling another of Austria’s schemes made it even better.

The meeting started as Prussia had expected. Within minutes Spain and England had begun to argue, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. One did not ignore Spain and England, especially a Spain and England threatening to draw weapons in close proximity to anything valuable or even the slightest bit flammable. Things had a tendency to explode in the most spectacular fashion around them; it was mostly England’s doing, though you had to watch Spain, sometimes. He could be a sneaky bastard when he wanted.

But then came the unexpected good.

“Well, if you’re so much better than I, how about you prove it?” England challenged, hand at the hilt of his sword.

Spain smiled. It was not his usual bright and sunny one, but the one that only appeared with England and occasionally Portugal. “Alright. As the challenged, I pick the battlefield… hm…” Spain paused, the somewhat frightening smile still prominent on his face. “How about the seas?”

“My ship against yours? If you insist, but we all know my ships are better than yours.” England replied.

“We shall see.” Spain hummed, “But I do not think it should be so easy. I think it is time we changed the rules. Whoever becomes the most infamous pirate wins. What do you say?”

England was about to respond, but Prussia interrupted, “Sounds fun. Decided. The awesome me will join. Tremble before the might of awesome Prussia!”

“Woah, we can join, too? I want in!” Denmark announced, jumping to his feet with a hand thrown in the air. “I’ve wanted to try being a pirate already! It sounds cool!”

As England stuttered protests, France added, “Well, then I must join as well.”

“Fine.” England spat, “Prepare to lose, frog!”

Portugal, who had been lounging in his chair, looked up and drawled, “I’m in.”

“Wait, wait, me and Liet are joining in, too!” Poland announced, slamming his hands down on the table. Lithuania jolted from his listless staring in surprise.

“Poland, what are you doing?!”

Austria sighed, rubbing the side of his head, “Well, if we’re all doing this, then we’ll have to establish rules.”

* * *

_“I’m home,_ Mausebär! _And even better, I brought a friend!”_

_“... Well, I guess that qualifies as something pretty. Though… it’s not exactly what I would have pictured. But I suppose I should have expected something like this from you.”_

_“Huh? Oh, right. It’s better, isn’t it! I am the awesomest husband! And look, no blood!”_

_“What the fuck?!”_

_“Congratulations, Prussia. You can follow simple instructions. One day you may even make it out of toddlerhood.”_

_“W-What?!_ Mausebär!! _Not in front of the guest!”_

_“Oh, no. Do continue. Maybe at some point this will all actually make some fucking sense.”_

_“I wouldn’t hold out hope. You did come here with my_ darling _husband.”_

_“Tch.”_

* * *

Prussia leaned over Austria’s shoulders with raised eyebrows, scanning the contract Austria had drawn up. He was a little impressed despite himself how fast Austria could write all of that flowery nonsense. He was about to comment when he was suddenly yanked back and met with the unimpressed steel blue stare of Brandenburg.

“You are seriously going to take part in this foolery, aren’t you?” asked his husband in a dry tone. He already seemed to know the answer.

Prussia smirked, “I’ll bring you back something pretty.” He’d have plenty of opportunities for it. Just think of all the treasure he could steal from Austria to decorate his husband with! Maybe Poland would have something pretty to put around Brandenburg’s neck! He’d bring back so many trinkets that everyone would be in awe of his amazing husband skills!

“Just make sure you don’t come home in pieces, would you? The house is new, nice and clean. I don’t want blood on my floors.” Brandenburg ordered.

“Anything for you, _Mausebär.”_ Prussia said. He wasn’t so sure he could do that, but he could try. He’d at least patch himself up before walking in the house then, if he was met with unawesomely bad luck. Such things were unlikely to happen to the awesomeness that was him, but it was always best to be prepared.

Austria adjusted his spectacles as he surveyed the contract. He cleared his throat, “Just to make things clear, the rules are as follows: In an undecided amount of time, each nation interested will engage in piracy in the hopes of becoming the most infamous. At the end, nations who did not participate will vote to decide who wins. All who participate must give a priceless artifact to the overall winner at the end, but may keep all other spoils. Any nation may join as long as they can procure a ship and crew through any means they wish. Nations may also pledge themselves to another captain if they wish, but they forfeit the right to win under their own name. We will reconvene at a later date to decide the end date for the contest. All in attendance who wish to participate will sign this contract in agreement to uphold these rules and enforce them for any who wish to join this contest at a later date. Are we all in agreement?”

* * *

_“Hey, Austria, do you still have that old contract we all signed?”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“That one we signed for the pirate thing!”_

_“Why on earth do you want that?”_

_“Oh, West is interested in pirates. I was thinking we could all get together and tell him all about it! Maybe we could even play dress up and relive the glory days! So he gets the full experience, you know.”_

_“Hm. I think I could find it. Have you informed the others?”_

_“Not yet. We should do a conference call! Do you have everyone’s numbers? I broke my phone last week and haven’t replaced everyone’s numbers yet.”_

_“You do realize that time zones are a thing, don’t you?”_

_“So?! Everyone will be happy to receive a call from the awesome me, no matter if it is day or night! Kesesesese!”_

_“Why don’t we just send an email? That way we don’t wake people up for something that would definitely not be considered an emergency?”_

_“Gah, why do you suck the fun from everything?!”_

* * *

Prussia darted through the dispersing crowd of nations, flinging his arms around the shoulders of a conversing France and Spain. “Guys! How awesome is this?! You two signed, didn’t you? Francy-Pants?”

“Of course. As a corsair of his majesty, I could not possibly pass up this chance to strike fear into the heart of our enemies.” France replied with a flourish of his hand.

“We aren’t still enemies, are we, France?” Spain asked worriedly, upping the puppy-eye settings to the highest degree.

“That has to be cheating.” Prussia said with a head-tilt. He wondered how any man was capable of surviving that look on a regular basis. It was bad enough being exposed to it in small doses like he was, even with his awesomeness shielding him! He hated to think of what Aragon went through.

France turned his eyes away without seeming to struggle (how did he do it?!), and said, “So, I presume the usual opposing-sides agreement is in effect here?” Spain’s pout instantly melted away into a smile.

“Do I want to know?” Brandenburg sighed. The three exchanged a look, but before any of them could say anything, Brandenburg continued, “Ah. I see I most definitely do not wish to know. Oh, look, there’s Holy Rome. I have some things I simply must discuss with him immediately.” His tone was suspiciously insincere. He took a few steps, before pausing and looking back to add, “Spain, France, if you would, please come find me when you three have finished catching up. I have a few things to… discuss with you.”

Prussia was confused. “What, we do?”

Brandenburg smiled and patted his shoulder, “No, darling, not we. _I._ Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” And he abruptly walked off.

“Did you hear that? He called me pretty!” He bragged. Best husband ever!

France rolled his eyes. “My, you really are gone, aren’t you.”

“It’s his first marriage, after all! It’s always so exciting!” Spain exclaimed, bouncing on his toes.

France shook his head, “Never mind that. Back to business.”

* * *

_“He was… certainly a strong-willed country, even for one of you Germanics, no?”_

_“Yeah… he was.”_

_“He didn’t even blink that one time he threatened France and I, and we were both pretty well in the height of our power, then! And there he was, that little duchy that you had just married, threatening us! I thought it was sweet!”_

_“He… did?”_

_“Oui, it was just after we all signed that piracy contract. You may not remember this, but he pulled Spain and I aside for a private conversation.”_

_“Yeah, he threatened us with all sorts of things if we let you come home in anything less than perfect condition!”_

_“Not to mention the unspoken threat of what would have happened if you had not come home at all…”_

_“Huh.”_

_“He truly loved you, mon ami. To the very end.”_

_“Yeah. To the very end.”_

_“Yeah, he did. And he certainly wouldn’t want his_ Häschen _moping around when he could be drinking and making terrible jokes like always. Don’t make me say that again. I swear, the German burned coming up.”_

_"Hehe..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Him and I - G-Easy and Halsey (Brandenburg and Prussia)
> 
> Just a note, most of this is not focusing on Brandenburg. He's actually not that important, he just kind of took over the first chapter without us noticing. Not to say he isn't going to play a part, he's just the stay-at-home husband to Prussia's dashing pirate. Someone's gotta do it.


	2. A Meeting of Gentlemen Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you humans know, we scrapped the canon aging system because it didn't work for our story. Instead, they get a bracket of ages they can go between, and it is very hard to maintain an age outside of it. However, the bracket is set at a different place than canon ages have them. See the end notes for a list of where we picture each character in the chapter. We'll start doing this for every chapter. Note that we are not including ages for the future dialogue scenes.  
> The chapter playlist will also be in the end notes.
> 
> We do not own Hetalia.

_“Liechtenstein? What are you doing here?”_

_“Big brother told me about what you are doing today. I wanted to see everyone dressed up as pirates, so big brother said I should ask if I could come with you. I will be very quiet, and I’ll even take notes for you if you want.”_

_“I can take my own notes, but ja, you can come along.”_

_“Thank you, Mr. Germany.”_

_“So does that mean Switzerland is involved in all of this?”_

_“Oh, yes, big brother seemed very excited. Not that he showed it much, but I could tell he was happy to relive those days. I wonder if he misses being a pirate.”_

_“That’s… good, I suppose. East seemed excited as well, but that is not so surprising. It is my brother, after all.”_

_“It does seem like something he would have enjoyed. And of course, I am interested to see Spain and England myself. I mean, everyone’s heard about their legendary pirate rivalry.”_

_“There’s a lot of rivalries in the legends I found. I am curious which two they might be. I am uncertain of who is involved, which makes it difficult to narrow it down.”_

_“Well, Mr. Austria told me a few things when I was younger. I remember him mentioning that he used to sail with Miss Hungary. I know he mentioned Italy Veneziano once or twice.”_

_“Wait, you mean Italy was involved in this?!”_

_“I suppose so. If Mr. Austria said he was a captain, who would have had to have been.”_

_“That makes sense, I guess… it is just very hard to imagine.”_

_“Really? I don’t think so. I think he must have made a very good pirate.”_

* * *

**October 1648**

 

Switzerland sat down with a sigh, his mind overflowing with thoughts. He could scarcely believe that he was his own country now, and not only that, but now he’d signed that contract. He knew he didn’t have the resources to fund his own ship; he was landlocked, after all. He’d have to join someone else. The question was who.

“So, little Venice, you’re in on this? What happened to the respectable little Italian merchant?” That was the Ottoman Empire. He was sitting two seats down, beside Venice. They’d been speaking for most of the meeting, though Switzerland had only caught the highlights, due to his preoccupation with other events and his own thoughts.

Venice gave one of his childlike smiles, “Well, I thought it was about time I expanded my business again. Why not? It seems fun. Besides, we might finally see who is truly the Master of the Mediterranean Sea.”

“You talk big for such a little guy.” The masked personification drawled with a smile. He reached forward to pat Venice’s head. “I could probably crush you just by stepping on you if I wanted to.”

Venice leaned away from the touch, the smile never wavering as he replied, “You’d have to catch me first. You might need a little help, though, since you’re so big, slow, and clumsy, you know?”

That startled a laugh from Switzerland, drawing their attention. He ducked his head, but they didn’t seem to be offended. Good. He really did not need to be making enemies so quickly now that he was on his own.

“Oh, ciao Switzerland. Did you sign the contract too?” Venice asked.

Switzerland tried to hide the embarrassed red in his cheeks as he grunted, “Yes. The potential for money sounded good.”

“I thought you were landlocked.” The Ottoman Empire commented. Switzerland grimaced at the reminder.

“Yeah. I am. I don’t really need to win for money, do I? The glory’s basically worthless to me. I figure I’ll just attach myself to someone else’s ship and bring in as much profit as I can. After all,” he snorted, “what do I know about sailing a ship? I’m a mercenary.”

The Ottoman Empire said, “In that case, you can always join me and my winning crew. We’ll bring in all of the treasure you can stand, ruling the Mediterranean.” He quirked his lips and shot a challenging look to Venice.

“Oh, no, no, I’m afraid if you want to be part of the ruling class of the Mediterranean, his ship is the wrong choice, since the sea will be ruled by Venice.” the italian argued. Switzerland knew better. He was not getting in the middle of this.

“As much as I appreciate the offers, I think I’ll just see if Austria is actually getting involved in this or just regulating.” Switzerland decided, despite the fact that he was technically separated from Austria now. Better Austria than one of these two, “Besides, he’ll need someone on his ship who actually has some sense of direction.”

Venice nodded, seeming to accept the rejection well enough, “Oh, well. Perhaps next time. I did see Austria sign the paper, though.” And then Venice smiled, and Switzerland shivered. No smile should ever be that unnerving. He’d made the right choice in steering clear of that nonsense.

* * *

_“I don’t understand what you have against Germany, Romano! I’m happy, isn’t that all that matters to you?_

_“Veneziano, it’s not about that.”_

_“Then what is this about? I don’t understand why you hate him so much-”_

_“Just shut up and listen a moment, damnit! This isn’t about Germany at all. It isn’t for me, and it sure as hell isn’t for you. This is about Holy Rome.”_

_“... W-What? Romano-”_

_“I said let me speak. This is about Holy Rome. I doubt you’d look twice at that potato if not for him.”_

_“That’s… That’s not…”_

_“Yes it is, and I know I’m right because you’re hesitating. I think that’s a shit reason to date someone. That little boy loves you, and he’s too young to realize that it isn’t the same for you. And_ I’m _supposed to be the cruel one.”_

_“So what if he reminds me of Holy Rome? What is so wrong about that?”_

_“Because he wasn’t as perfect as you seem to remember him. You spent more of your time pissed off at him than you did happy. And that little boy doesn’t deserve to have his heart broken like that.”_

* * *

“So you’re going to go off and be a pirate, then?”

Venice repressed a huff and turned to the Ottoman Empire and Switzerland, “If you’ll excuse me?”

He ignored the looks the pair were giving him, sweeping off to join Holy Rome. Quietly, he replied, “Yes, I am.” He raised an eyebrow, a challenge for Holy Rome to try and argue.

“Well, I… if you’re sure?” Holy Rome sounded uncertain, making his already weakened voice weaker. His skin looked unnaturally pale, as it often did these days. Venice caught his blue eyes, but quickly looked away.

“I am.” he replied. His voice sounded smaller than he wanted it to. He straightened his spine, and added somewhat bitterly, “Haha, it’s kinda funny. Now it’s my turn to leave.”

He saw Holy Rome flinch, but only felt a fleeting moment of victory before it was chased away by the hurt expression on the other’s face. “I suppose so.”

“I-” Venice paused, not sure what he wanted to say anymore. “Well, I’m not leaving immediately.”

“That’s good.” Holy Rome said with an attempt at a smile, something slightly more hopeful about it as he shook off the hurt caused by Venice’s words.

Venice nodded, “I think so too. Maybe we should go for a walk through the gardens, or something like that. Once I’m on the ship I’ll be spending most of my time on sea until everything is over.”

“Maybe…” Holy Rome said. Venice could tell by the look on his face that it wasn’t likely to happen. Not that he really expected it to. “Well, how long are you going to be gone?”

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to back out early. I promised the Ottoman Empire a good battle over the Mediterranean.” Venice mentioned, appearing to be allowing his attention to wander while his eyes stayed on Holy Rome, awaiting a reaction.

Holy Rome’s expression lowered further, “You did?” He didn’t seem pleased by the prospect.

“Mhm! I think it’s going to be fun. It’s always fun.” And it would be. Perfect as a distraction, really, and an excuse to join in.

“So does that mean there’s no chance of me convincing you to stay? At least for a little while longer?” Holy Rome asked. There it was- the heart of the matter. Venice felt a stab of hurt and anger as he turned his gaze back and met the blue eyes. He stared until Holy Rome looked down to break the eye-contact.

 _You never stay for me,_ he wanted to say, _so why should I stay for you?_

* * *

  _“What do you think of this plan of Prussia’s?”_

_“The pirate thing? I think it’ll be, like, hilarious to terrify that little upstart Germany.”_

_“Poland… don’t traumatize him. He’s really young, you can’t hold things against him.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“He’s younger than America, Poland. It’s not his fault he had bad influences.”_

“Prussia. _You know, I almost didn’t want to go along with all of this. The only reason I am is because it will be fabulous to relive the glorious pirate days!”_

_“... Those days really were something, huh.”_

_“Yeah, they were! We totally kicked serious ass. And I also kicked your ass a few times, so there is that.”_

_“That’s a matter of opinion.”_

_“No it isn’t, Liet! I totally sunk that one ship of yours!”_

_“That ship wasn’t even technically mine, besides I set fire to your sails and stole half of your supplies.”_

_“Well, no victory is perfect.”_

* * *

Lithuania did not want to sign that contract. The only reason he was anywhere near it was because he was trying to stop Poland. But no, when did Poland ever listen to good advice?

“I’m just saying, don’t you think we have better things to do?” Lithuania asked. At this point he was futilely searching for an argument. He had little faith that anything would convince Poland out of it now that he’d been convinced that the matter was worth his time.

“I don't think so.” Poland replied, before giving a taunting smirk, “You’re just scared, aren’t you? I think you’re just scared that I’ll be a better pirate than you and totally destroy all of your ships.”

Lithuania jerked in surprise, “I’m not scare- Wait, we aren’t working together?!”

Poland didn’t seem to hear most of his sentence, “So if you aren’t scared, what’s the problem? Come on, Liet, you know you want to. This stuff is just your style! Who knows? Maybe you’ll manage to impress me.”

“Who says I want to do any of that? Just because I don’t have an interest doesn’t mean I’m scared.” Lithuania argued, but Poland just raised an eyebrow. Now that he’d gotten this idea in his head there was no way Poland was letting Lithuania out of this.

His husband assumed a confident pose, “That’s what the scared say, Liet. Besides, Prussia’s joining. I know you wouldn’t miss a chance to fight him again. So…”

“Poland…” he protested weakly, knowing from that look in his eyes and his dramatic posture what Poland was about to say.

Poland smirked as he leaned forward, his next words challenging and very deliberate. “It’s your move, Liet.”

Damn, “Alright, I’ll sign.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> Crazy = Genius - Panic! At the Disco (Venice and the Ottoman Empire)  
> It Took Me By Surprise - Maria Mena (Venice and The Holy Roman Empire)  
> Look What You Made Me Do/ Tag, You’re It - Taylor Swift/ Melanie Martinez Mashup by Adrian Mashups (Poland and Lithuania) 
> 
> Ages (please note, these are where we picture them, but feel free to picture them about 3 years to either side):  
> Prussia - 14  
> Austria - 16  
> The Ottoman Empire - 20  
> Spain - 18  
> England - 17  
> Denmark - 15  
> France - 18  
> Poland - 16  
> Lithuania - 15  
> Portugal - 16  
> Brandenburg - 15  
> Switzerland - 12  
> Venice - 13  
> The Holy Roman Empire - 12


	3. The Beginning of an Era

_“You two are late.”_

_“Uh, yeah, uh- Sorry. We got lost.”_

_“Well, come along, then. We don’t have all day.”_

_“You look very nice Mr. Austria. Is that how you used to dress?”_

_“Huh? Oh, yes, this is one of the things I wore during our years on the seas.”_

_“So, what exactly are we doing? Prussia refused to tell me much. Said it would give the game away, or something like that.”_

_“Of course he did. Well, I was supposed to explain the process anyhow.”_

_“Process?”_

_“Yes. You will be introduced to each participant individually. They will be introducing themselves by the name of their persona, and it will be up to you to guess who they are. I don’t know who came up with the idea, but there have even been bets placed on which ones you will guess correctly. I am exempt from this as you already know who I am. I took the liberty of composing theme music for everyone. You must stay for the duration of one playthrough to talk to that person, but after that it is up to you when to move on.”_

_“Why do we have to stay for the full song?”_

_“It will ruin the atmosphere! You will destroy the entire experience!”_

_“Right… stay for the whole song… got it.”_

_“Oh, and by the way. Watch your step. It’s going to be quite dark in there. We wouldn’t want to give away everyone before their turn. You will be able to tell who to talk to next by the lights. They will turn on for the next individual when you step away from your current interview. Any questions?”_

_“How many are there?”_

_“I suppose you will have to wait and see, won’t you?”_

* * *

 

**November 1648**

 

The door opened just a crack, enough for Spain to see green eyes as Flanders asked, “Spain? What are you doing back so soon?” She opened the door wider to invite him inside.

“The meeting isn’t over, at least for all of the ambassadors.” Spain replied, taking off his outer coat that was now unnecessary in the warmth of the house, “But there are much more exciting things going on!”

“Really?” Flanders asked, closing the door to keep the cold wind from entering her house.

Spain nodded his head vigorously as she took his coat, “Oh, yes! We all signed this contract, and we’re going to be pirates! Any nations who want to join can, so there’ll be plenty of people to fight. I don’t know why anyone would stay home at a time like this!”

“Hm.” Flanders hummed and then smiled, “So you’re off to plunder the seas, then?”

“Sí! I have to show that _upstart_ Britain who the power of the seas really is!” He paused, turning to look her over. She didn’t look so bad off as she had a few months ago, which was good. The war had hit her particularly hard. He felt a little bad about that- it wasn’t her fault everyone liked fighting over her lands or just on her lands in general. He also felt a little guilty; she was his responsibility and he was supposed to be protecting her. “How is the rebuilding coming along? Are you feeling better? Should I stay for a little while and help? Britain is still going to be there in a few months, after all!”

Flanders shook her head, “I’m grateful for the offer, but there’s no need. Now that everything is over, we should be alright.”

“Well, I’ll be staying here for the night, but I’m off first thing tomorrow morning! I’ve got to go tell my boss about this, you know?” Spain let out a little nervous laugh; the meeting with his boss was sure to be interesting. “And then, well, there’s Britain to fight!”

“Do you know who else is participating?” Flanders asked curiously.

Spain thought back to the meeting. He’d been a little focused on Britain, and then his friends to pay too much attention to who was signing the contract. “Well, I know Prussia, France, The Ottoman Empire, and Portugal signed it. I think Poland, Lithuania, Austria, and Denmark also joined in. Oh! Your brother signed it as well.” His voice became a little bitter over the reminder of the Netherlands gaining his independence from Spain in the terms of peace.

She nodded in consideration, before the deep thoughts in her eyes cleared, “Well, why don’t you go sit down while I make us something? You’ll need to rest if you’re going on all of those long voyages.”

As Spain bounced off to do just that, the green eyes of Flanders followed him. There was a pensive expression on her face. As Spain exited through a doorway, out of sight, she gave a cat-like smile.

“Pirates, huh?”

* * *

 

_“So what were you called?”_

_“Captain Emma Maes, the Lioness of the West.”_

_“Belgium? Is that really you?”_

_“Aw, so quickly? I was hoping to preserve at least some mystery. I suppose I’m too easily recognizable. Such a shame.”_  

* * *

 

“What has you so happy, _Angleterre?”_ France asked. Snow fell gently around them as they made their way west. They were off to separate ports, of course, but their road hadn’t yet split.

Britain shot him a look, “Well, I guess I’m looking forward to this little arrangement. I imagine it will be quite the sight, watching all of your ships burn.”

France clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “Don’t be like that. Are you sure you are not smiling due to exceptional company? I imagine it is hard to come by on your little island, unless you count that brother of yours.” Britain made a face at the mention of Scotland.

_“He_ is not good company at all. He’s rude for one thing.” Britain grumbled, glaring up at the cloudy sky.

“I’ve heard tell that those in glass houses should not cast stones.” France remarked with a smile.

Britain jerked atop his mount, “Why you-!”

“Don’t get so worked up over the truth, _Angleterre.”_ he purred, enjoying the color rising to the others face. It was almost too easy.

As Britain sputtered nonsensical phrases and sounds, France noticed the fork in the road coming into view. He’d be taking the road going further south, unlike his companion.

“It seems our time traveling together will be coming to an end.” France noted aloud.

Britain peered ahead, and then nodded, “Our truce is over the moment we are on water, got it? If I see you on the ocean, your ships will be sunk.”

“You can certainly try.” France scoffed. He had no intention of allowing the black sheep of Europe to sink one of _his_ ships. “If I start hearing about the Captain Arthur Kirkland sinking my merchant ships again, I shall know who to look for, won’t I?”

“Hmph.” That was all the answer France needed. They spent the last stretch of road in silence, until they came to a stop at the split. France turned to Britain, and gave a smile.

“Good luck, _Angleterre.”_ he said with a wink, “Don’t let Spain send you to the bottom of the Atlantic without letting me get in at least one good hit.”

Britain’s almost soft expression (it never was truly soft, these days) melted away, “I’m not wishing _you_ luck, Frog! Like hell Spain’s sinking me! If anyone is swimming with the fish it’s _him!”_

France rolled his eyes. “If you say so.”

* * *

 

_“Oh,_ that _won’t do… Ah, better.”_

_“So you are…?”_

_“Captain Arthur Kirkland, the Scourge of the Seas.”_

_“England.”_

_“You seem very pleased, Mr. England.”_

_“She’s certainly got you there.”_

_“You do look rather disgustingly like the cat that got the cream.”_

_“Shut up, Frog. You already had your turn. They want to talk to a_ real _pirate now.”_

* * *

 

“Captain! There’s a ship!”

Britain, now Captain Arthur Kirkland, looked up from his endless pacing of the deck of _the Queen’s Curse,_ his gaze quickly finding the dark color that marked out a ship against the endless blue.

“Can anyone see a flag?” Arthur asked. In the meeting, all of them had agreed that their flags would have the bottom right corner colored white to signify that they were nations. He hadn’t expected to meet anyone so soon, but with so many involved, it was best to be prepared. It could be the Netherlands, France, Spain, or anyone else involved. Or not. It could just be a merchant ship.

“Uh, I think so!” called one of his crew, the one up in the crow’s nest. “It looks like… it’s a pirate! Crossed weapons, I can’t tell what kind. Anyone know anything like that?”

Arthur’s hand clenched around the railing. The suspense was doing him no favors. “Can you see if the corner is marked white, like ours?”

There was a long pause. Then: “I think so, Captain! Can’t be sure from here, of course.”

“Prepare for battle, then.” Arthur ordered. It was unlikely he’d get a truce before the ships went their separate ways, not unless it was the Netherlands. Even then, Arthur wasn’t sure he wanted a truce.

Moments dragged on as he waited to see if he could identify any of the shapes becoming steadily clearer aboard the ship. The figures were moving quite frantically, but that was to be expected. His own men would look much the same. His eyes narrowed as he noticed a figure standing on the edge of the deck, unmoving, much as he was. It couldn’t be France, or the Netherlands, they both had lighter hair. That left two likely options.

Then he saw the axe, glinting in the sun, and he abruptly swore.

“Cannons! Are you ready to fire or what?!” he shrieked, his head whipping around to glare at his men.

The man he’d made first mate a few years back, and gave control of the ship when he had other business, tilted his head, “A man we know, captain?”

“Fernandez-Carriedo.”

That was all the other man needed to know. Arthur had had a few altercations with him in the past when they were both playing pirate, not that Arthur ever had much time to devote to it. Before now. This was a world event, his boss would _make_ time for it.

“Everyone, it’s Carriedo!” shouted his first mate. Instantly he heard a chorus of cursing, and the men were suddenly running as if the devil was after them. Maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth. 

* * *

 

_“The Conquistador, Captain Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo.”_

_“Spain?! But- You’re- What? I thought you were-”_

_“Oh, sí, sí, but outside forces stepped in and convinced us to… put aside our differences for a time.”_

_“Really? How fascinating. Will you tell us about it, Mr. Spain?”_

_“I’d be more than happy to.”_

_“Is anyone else terrified out of their fucking minds?”_

_“No, absolutely not, you will not be telling her about it! Anyone else can, not you!”_

_“Oh, allow me, I would love to regale her with-”_

_“No. Not you either, France. Absolutely not.”_

_“But big brother, I’m just curious. If you are here, surely it won’t hurt.”_

_“I- I-”_

_“I would like to hear this as well.”_

_“Fine. But I’ll be listening carefully, and if I hear one thing I don’t like, then, well… I’m sure you all remember my legend well enough.”_

_“You mean the part where you sold your soul to the Sea-Witch to save your master? Yeah, I remember that.”_

_“Sh- Shut up!”_

_“”What? They really said that about us? Huh. Maybe I did not pay as close attention to our legend as I really should have.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> Shadows - Amadeus Indetzki (?/ Austria)  
> Invincible - SimBi (Captain Emma Maes, the Lioness of the West)  
> Dear Future Husband/ Alphabet Boy - Meghan Trainor/ Melanie Martinez Mashup by Brian Lucero (England and France)  
> Blood Night - Adrian von Ziegler (Captain Arthur Kirkland, the Scourge of the Seas)  
> Betrayed - Dmitriy Mityukhin (Captain Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, the Conquistador)   
> Storytime - Nightwish (The Queen's Curse)
> 
> Ages:  
> Spain - 18  
> Flanders - 12  
> England - 17  
> France - 18


	4. First Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a bit, but we're back. Here, have some Spain and England with a side of Vikings!

_"So who do you think were Spain and England? Their rivalry was the biggest from what Mr. Austria told me. So who do you think they were from this list?”_

_"I don’t know. The bigger rivalries that I’ve seen were between the Deceiver and the Masked Pirate, the Collector and the King of Pirates, and also between the Witchling and the Enslaver. And of course any fleet the Hunter of the Gods and the Angel of Death joined was in constant conflict with both the Masked Pirate and the Deceiver. So perhaps that would make that Portugal, England, Spain, and France?”_

_"Maybe. But the Witchling seems to be something England might go by. Were there any others?”_

_“There were a few others, but those were the ones I believe were most likely. Some of the other rivalries seemed to have dissipated over time and they ended up working together.”_

_“Yes, that does seem rather unlikely for those two.”_

_“Yeah. Seems rather impossible. The only reason I’m skeptical about the Witchling being England is that the Witchling was said to be only a child.”_

_“Hm. Well, they were younger back then. Perhaps he seemed more like a child.”_

* * *

Captain Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo was boarding his ship.

Spain was boarding his ship.

_Spain_ was boarding _his ship!_

This ship was English property! Who the hell did that… that… _country_ think he was?!

“Captain…”

Arthur ignored the voice, stomping across the deck of _The Queen’s Curse,_ fully intending to put a stop to this atrocity. His loud footsteps drew the attention of the Spaniard.

“Get the hell off my ship!” Arthur ordered, coming to a stop a few paces in front of Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo.

The Spaniard had the gall to _smile_ at him like you would when indulging a small child. “Oh? Are you going to make me?”

Arthur growled and drew his cutlass in answer. He could throw the pieces of the Spaniard over the side of the railing for the sharks once he was done.

This was his ship! He could bloody well make anyone get off of it! Especially infuriating Spaniards that were infesting his ship! They could be diseased or something!

It would be easy. After all, if he could smash that Armada to pieces, booting Spain off his ship should be child’s play.

England’s cutlass met the blade of the axe in a clash of metal.

* * *

_“You know, I seem to recall telling you not to get sunk by Spain before I got a good hit in.”_

_"I didn’t get_ sunk!”

_“No, but you were quite soundly defeated, weren’t you, mon ami?”_

_“There was nothing sound about it! The only reason he won was… was… because I bloody tripped! That ridiculous axe of his was tearing up my ship! That doesn’t count!”_

_“But Angleterre, if it had been me or Espagne who had tripped into defeat at your hands, you would have insisted that it counted, non? So by that logic, you were_ most _soundly defeated by Spain.”_

_"Why you--!”_

_“No need to be violent! No, not the hair!”_

* * *

Arthur tripped.

How embarrassing. He tripped his way into defeat.

France would never let him live this down. There was little hope of France not finding out, seeing as he was somehow _friends_ with the Spaniard. They would waste no opportunity to make fun of him together. It was annoying, and in this case mortifying. Them and that Prussian menace…

Arthur’s crew were in no position to help him out of his predicament either, seeing as unfortunately they had been rather soundly thrashed by the Spaniard’s men. He would have to address that failing later, assuming any were left alive.

Spain smirked down at him, the shining metal of the axe uncomfortably close to Arthur’s neck.

“It seems first blood goes to me in this contest.” Spain mused, letting the axe nick England’s throat. He resisted the urge to swallow uncomfortably. He would rather not cause his own death. Bad enough he’d caused his own defeat. No need to add insult to injury, or injury to insult as it were.

Arthur briefly considered reaching for his gun, but doubted he’d manage it before getting decapitated. He’d rather not have his crew witness that kind of blatant regeneration. It would invite too many questions and possible desertions, which would really be too much to bother with.

Spain smiled, the tip of his boot lightly prodding Arthur in the side. “Well, I suppose I could throw you off this ship of yours, but really I think that would spoil the fun too soon, don’t you agree?”

No. He was _not--_

“So I suppose I’ll have to let you go.” Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo finished.

" _Damn you.”_

“That’s not very nice, is it?” Spain replied, not seeming bothered at all. Which, given, this was Spain and he couldn’t be bothered by anything short of the destruction of his entire Armada. What a strange, horrid creature. “But that’s a very nice glare you’re giving me now. I like it.”

Strange creature indeed.

* * *

_“So, Spain, I've read that you were cursed to never step foot on land, at least according to the legend. Do you have any idea where that came from?”_

_“Oh, well. You see, the first thing I did when the contest started was destroy England.”_

_"You didn't destroy me! I tripped!”_

_"Si, si, I defeated you. Anyways, he was a little bitter--”_

_“I wasn’t bitter!”_

_“What do you mean you weren’t bitter? Mon cher, you’re still bitter.”_

_“Why you--!”_

_“-- so he started cursing my ships whenever we came into contact. Whenever I left them they would burn down, or get stolen… so I just started staying aboard unless absolutely necessary.”_

_"Oi, Spain, turn the puppy dog eyes off. This happened ages ago.”_

_“But I had such nice ships…”_

_“Yes. They were quite lovely. But it’s a little hard to make a profit from a ship that sinks or catches fire when you leave it. It’s bad for business when that kind of thing gets out.”_

_“It was annoying.”_

_“You two stole my ships?!”_

_“You didn’t know?”_

_“Oh yes, all the time! Whenever I heard you were nearby I took to following you. Your ships were always so easy to steal when you left. I guess that's the good side to the curse. So I guess I should thank you England!”_

_“I didn’t do it for you!”_

* * *

The Danish port was predictably loud as the group of three arrived. Sweden hunched further over his horse, keeping an eye on his surroundings. While Denmark, and to some extent Norway, could feel comfortable here, Sweden had been fighting too long and was too used to having Denmark as an enemy despite recently fighting on the same side in a war.

It was too loud, anyway. Only nations like Denmark would appreciate being surrounded by shouting people. Predictably the dane was cheerful, waving to those they passed and humming tunes as they suited him. Norway was of course more reserved, but to Sweden’s eye he seemed more relaxed than he had been as they had been travelling through the German states.

“This is exciting, don’t you think?” Denmark asked, the way he turned to Norway telling Sweden he wasn’t the one the question was directed to. Just as well. Sweden had already run out of patience with the never-ending questions and comments along a similar vein that Denmark had been repeating since the contest had been started.

Norway sighed, and replied, “You’ve mentioned it.” Sweden gave a nod. Denmark was unfazed.

“But so many people signed! It’ll be like when we used to go raiding!” Denmark exclaimed, “I’ve missed it.”

Sweden had, too. Which was why he had also signed the contract. He also assumed that nostalgia drove Norway’s signature as well.

“Hey, Sverige.” Denmark said. Sweden drew his attention back to the nation as he continued, “You wanna join me and Norge? It’ll be even more like old times then!”

“No.” Absolutely not. Sweden would never again obey Denmark’s rule. He’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

But he supposed that meant Norway and Denmark would be working together. Sweden had half-hoped that Norway would go it alone. It would be more fun to burn down all of Denmark’s ships when there wasn’t a Norway there to make things more difficult. Facing Denmark on his own was bad enough; but with Norway at his side Sweden would need reinforcements.

Though, looking at Norway, Denmark seemed to have made some sort of blunder again. Perhaps that alliance wasn’t to last. Then again, Norway had stayed behind Denmark’s side this long, and Denmark was the master of bumbling his way through life in the most infuriating way possible to everyone around him. It was a miracle Norway hadn’t smothered him in his sleep.

Then again, perhaps he had. Denmark would likely have woken up after healing and assumed it to have been a game, or an accident, or something stupid like that.

Denmark shrugged, “Too bad. Guess I’ll see you on the seas, then! Don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Sweden grunted. There was no way _he’d_ go easy on Denmark, either.

“So, I’ve got to go tell the boss what’s going on and get myself set up. I guess you’ll have to go back home, Norge?” Denmark asked, turning back to his husband.

“What do you think?” Norway replied in a dry tone.

Denmark said, “Well, then I guess we’ll just have to meet up. Oh! And we can’t forget to tell the kids where we’re going. Maybe Ice will want to join us. He’s old enough.”

“Maybe.” Norway commented in a tone that further hinted to some sort of blunder made on Denmark’s part. Sweden wasn’t sure what it was, but it likely wouldn’t end too well for Denmark, judging by the calculating look Norway reserved for his most interesting plots.

“So are you going to go bring in Finland and the others?” Denmark asked Sweden curiously. He nodded. Sweden was fairly sure Estonia at least wouldn’t be interested in joining him, but it would be nice to bring Finland along. If both of them wanted to stay home, or participate on their own, Sweden wouldn’t mind. The competition was for fun. He wouldn’t be a big competitor, at least not in the beginning, since he figured he would hand-make his ship in the image of the ships they’d used to use when raiding. It would not be exact, since newer ships were faster, but if he was going to be nostalgic, he thought he might as well go into as much detail as possible. Without Denmark, of course.

“I hope everyone else brings in some of the kids.” Denmark commented, “It’ll be more fun with more of us on the sea.”

Norway tilted his head, before asking, “You don’t think that will just make it harder when we’re up against England, Spain, Austria, or France?”

“Oh, that’s the fun of it!” Denmark exclaimed excitedly, “Besides, maybe some of them will want to stick it out on their own. Do you think if I asked any of their colonies would be okay with joining me?”

“Probably not.” Sweden said. Better to nip that idea in the bud. He didn’t think it would be safe to have Denmark exposed to impressionable children. It was bad enough he had Iceland, Greenland, and the Faroe Islands. Sweden was just thankful Norway was there to make sure the young nations didn’t become complete disasters.

Denmark shrugged, “Oh, well. Me’n Norge will still give them hell, won’t we?”

“Of course.”

Denmark straightened his shoulder with pride. “Right. So, Sverige, I guess you’ll have to catch a ship home, too?” At his nod, the other nation continued, “Well, I guess I’ll see you, then. Good luck!”

“Mm.”

* * *

_"Alright, so who’s next?”_

_"_ _Mm.”_

_“Sweden, and… what did you go by?”_

_“No mystery there…”_

_“Captain Berwald, the Northern Wolf.”_

_“Really, that was you, Mr. Sweden? You were one of my favorites from the legends Mr. Germany showed me.”_

_“I appreciate it.”_

_“Mr. Sweden, are you blushing?”_

_“...”_

_“Woah, Finland’s right, he i--”_

“Shut up, Denmark!”

_“Oh, right! Sorry! Haven’t had my turn yet, I’m not here!”_

_“Way to be inconspicuous, Denmark.”_

_“Right…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> Betrayed - Dmitriy Mityukhin (Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, The Conquistador)  
> Blood Night - Adrian von Ziegler (Captain Arthur Kirkland, The Scourge of the Seas)  
> Storytime - Nightwish (The Queen’s Curse)  
> God of Thunder - Antti Martikainen (Captain Berwald, The Northern Wolf)
> 
> Ages:  
> Spain - 18  
> England - 17  
> Denmark - 15  
> Sweden - 14  
> Norway - 13


End file.
